A project built in the open, by ordinary people, about the country we know we can be.
Alice Thomas was born and raised in Whitfield County, Georgia — Dalton, in the hills of northwest Georgia. She graduated from Northwest Whitfield High School in 2005, then went on to attend Southern Polytechnic State University (now part of Kennesaw State University), earning a degree in Software Engineering. She has spent her career as a DevOps and Cloud engineer, now based in Atlanta, and is married to her wife of fourteen years.
She started this project because she grew up watching the country she loved — the country she was taught to believe in — fail the test it set for itself. Not with a dramatic break, but with a slow accumulation: of small betrayals, of institutions that bent when they should have held, of a constitutional framework brilliant enough to survive two centuries and fragile enough to be dismantled piece by piece without anyone technically breaking a rule. She built this platform because she believes the problems are structural, the solutions are knowable, and silence is not an option.
Alice's mother was a staff member at Grove Level Baptist Church in Dalton for many years. Alice grew up in a Baptist household, in a conservative Republican family, in a community where faith was not a political accessory but a genuine way of organizing one's life around love and obligation to others.
She takes the teachings of Jesus seriously — not selectively. The case is not built on one verse or one passage. It is built on the cumulative weight of what the New Testament actually says about love, about obligation, about what faith requires of us in practice.
Matthew 22:37–40 — the two great commandments — organizes everything else: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." All the Law and the Prophets. Everything. Two commandments. That is not a framework with a lot of room for exceptions.
1 Corinthians 13 — Paul's great treatise on love — makes the terms explicit. Verse 13 lands the point: "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." Not doctrine. Not political alignment. Not who you vote for. Love. And the verses that precede it spell out what love actually looks like in practice: it is patient, it is kind, it does not keep a record of wrongs, it does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth, it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Paul's argument is that without love, everything else — prophecy, knowledge, sacrifice, even faith — amounts to nothing. "If I have not love, I am nothing."
1 John 4:7–21 closes the case. "Beloved, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." And then verse 20, which is perhaps the most direct verse in the entire New Testament on the subject of what it means to claim faith while treating other people badly: "Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen." The commandment follows immediately: "Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister."
And Matthew 25:40: "Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." This is not a metaphor about being kind to people you find easy to love. It is a direct statement about where God is to be found — in the hungry, the stranger, the sick, the imprisoned. A platform built on healthcare access, housing security, immigration dignity, and the rights of people who have been discarded by every other political framework is not a departure from Christian values. It is an application of them.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." — 1 Corinthians 13:13
These passages do not come with footnotes, asterisks, or a list of people they do not apply to. The tradition Alice was raised in taught her to read scripture as binding, not decorative. She still does. That is why this platform looks the way it does.
Her conservative upbringing left its mark too — and she is grateful for it, even where she has arrived at different conclusions than her family. From that tradition, she carries:
This platform is not anti-religion. It does not ask anyone to abandon their faith. It asks only that the rights and dignity guaranteed by this framework be extended to every person — as every serious faith tradition, at its best, demands.
Alice is not naïve about the distance between where she was raised and where she now stands on some questions. She has thought about that distance carefully. Her conclusion: the values she was taught — love, fairness, dignity, accountability, and the obligation to show up for the people around you — are exactly the values this platform is built on. The journey was not away from those values. It was deeper into them.
Alice has been an Atlanta Braves devotee since childhood. She named both her dogs after Braves third basemen: Chipper, named after Chipper Jones — the greatest Brave to ever put on the tomahawk, a Hall-of-Famer who spent his entire career in Atlanta — and Riley, named after Austin Riley, who carries the tradition at third base today.
Music is her primary hobby and abiding love. Her taste resists easy categorization: David Bowie's boundless reinvention, the feverish confessional energy of Chappell Roan, Pink Floyd's vast sonic architecture, and the irreducible cool and wit of De La Soul. What these artists have in common is that they did not do the expected thing — they made something that could not have been predicted from the inputs. That quality is, she would say, the whole point.
At this stage, Alice Thomas is the sole human contributor to this project. The research, writing, framing, policy positions, and decisions about what this platform is and is not are hers.
A number of people have offered feedback and suggestions, and that input has been valuable. But no one else has directly contributed code, writing, or policy content to this repository. If and when that changes, it will be acknowledged here and in the commit history.
This project is open. If the ideas resonate with you and you want to contribute — as a writer, researcher, policy expert, designer, or developer — the repository is public and the door is open.
This project has no outside funding. There are no donors, no PACs, no grants, no sponsors, and no financial backers of any kind. Alice receives no compensation for this work. Every hour spent on research, writing, and development is volunteer time, paid for entirely out of her own pocket. This is, deliberately, a project with no financial obligations to anyone other than herself.
AI tools are used in parts of this research and drafting process. See On the Use of AI for full transparency on how AI is used and what standards govern it.
People sometimes ask what qualifies someone to write a constitutional platform. It is a fair question. The answer Alice gives is this: the same thing that qualified the people who wrote the original — a combination of serious reading, lived experience, moral urgency, and the conviction that waiting for someone more credentialed to do it is how the work never gets done.
She is an engineer by training and profession. Engineers build things designed to hold under pressure, to fail gracefully when they do fail, and to be maintainable by the people who come after. She looked at the American system of government and saw a structure that has not been properly maintained, that is failing under predictable stresses, and that has known fixes — fixes that have been avoided not because they are impossible but because the people who benefit from the broken state of things have made them politically costly.
She is from Georgia. She loves this country. She is not willing to give up on it.